PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Old friends of mine live around here

a time of cocaine and indole alkaloids

it was a public library

before the killing started

before waves of exotic frequency gave everyone tumors and irradiated the mice

a significant percentage of which drank the cocaine water even given second chances

it smells like air dried tobacco spit

and the things that live in there are my favorite organisms are now my only friends

i use to hear voices on the short wave

women's voices

talking about the lastest out of Japan

you see literature without jazz is

well the bujwah resourcefullness

it goes either way tho

but i dreamt those girls drank liquor never heard of

teas from little shops across from morningside park

and they would find me as respulsive as the gap

at&t

bell labs used to be here

they shot microwaves into space and found it was still expanding

 the discovery of which confounded everybody but conveyed nothing

the grandest sense of nothing

what is it honeybee

that keeps you moving

that adheres seed to your backside like in a porno

the grand porno of itself

you see its only itself

itself is the answer

itself so many times it brought about form

and porno-sex-food is all a kind of masturbation

a kind of fusion and fission of nucleates

derived from the virtual

where the image is no longer the image but the void itself

that is what you are hiding mr honeybee

that is your cosmetic fallacy of populating

the earth its all a free lunch

take off your clothes

your lymph

really disect to essential hyperboring elan vital

youl find the high priests have a problem concealing something

youl find jazz shakes something

youl find nothing

again and again

for as many botlzmon brains as it takes

youl find nothing so bored

so fed up

that it differentiates from itself

and in that differentiation such a magnitude of application

a magnitude with direction

then its simple equations

work energy equivalence

e= yada yada

why cant you see

and why cant one of those girls who spin jazz records call me up

and say lets get busy in the library bathroom

is it because i have tits

i have a good face

maybe im not cool enough